


Some Like It Big

by Pecandy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Fingering, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Toys, dildo, dirty texting, ooey gooey gushy love, size fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pecandy/pseuds/Pecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a bit of a size fetish, but he isn't quite comfortable bringing that up to Sherlock just yet.  But Sherlock really doesn't need to be told. PWP!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like It Big

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme:  
> http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/19351.html?thread=115150999#t115150999
> 
> John has a bit of a size kink but he's never put the control in somebody else's hands before. He and Sherlock get started exploring it and reach a point where John's not sure he can take anymore. But he can. He really, really can.

John moaned as Sherlock scissored two slender fingers inside of him. Those fingers did such lovely, dirty things to him, shattered his usually calm demeanor to desperation. “More,” he groaned. Sherlock complied, adding a third finger with a bit more lube. John gasped. He loved the stretch- the initial feeling of fullness that came with every new finger made his head go fuzzy. “Fuck, Sherlock, more.”

Sherlock stared up at him, his eyes fiery. John saw something calculating in his expression as he lubed his pinky pressed it slowly in. He groaned harshly and bucked against the fingers- so _full_. Sherlock was fucking him with almost his whole hand now and it was un-fucking-believably erotic. A wet little puddle of precum was beginning to form on John’s stomach as he writhed. “Shit, fu-“ his curses were cut off abruptly when he felt Sherlock’s hot, wet tongue pry its way between the fingers inside him. He shouted and came obscenely hard, his cock throbbing and pulsing and _god_. Sherlock eased the pressure with John’s aftershocks, and finally removed his fingers when he relaxed completely. Gently, he crawled up next to him, blue eyes boring into his.

“Fuck, Sherlock. Sorry, that just kind of caught me by surprise, I didn’t mean t-“ Sherlock silenced him with a kiss. John trailed a hand over Sherlock’s chest, twisting at his nipple before taking hold of his cock. He jerked him slowly, listening for his breathing to quicken before speeding up. He worked him firmly as they kissed, twisting both hands and squeezing lightly at the tip. Breathlessly, he pulled out of the kiss and lowered himself to Sherlock’s dick, wasting no time with teasing before taking the head into his mouth. Sherlock grabbed at John’s hair and let out a soft moan. It took only a few minutes of sucking and licking to bring Sherlock to completion, his thighs shaking as he held John's head in place. John loved how intense Sherlock was when he finally let go- cursing and clenching onto him hard enough to leave bruise marks the next day.

Sherlock planted a sweet, lingering closed-mouthed kiss on John’s lips. He jerked away after a moment and grinned fiendishly. “John…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“Never mind. Go to bed.” He shut off the lamp and curled up into his pillow, his breathing shallow after a few minutes. _Oh God, what’s he plotting now…?_ John wondered sleepily as he drifted off.

******

When his alarm woke him the next morning, John was alone in Sherlock’s bed. He rolled out lazily and made his way to his own room. St. Victoria’s volunteer clinic was expecting him in an hour, so he hurried to pick out an outfit and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water beating down on his skin knocked him out of his dreamy morning state, and memories of the night before began to fill his mind. He loved being filled, had always fantasized about being stretched to the point he didn’t think he could take anymore. He hated labels, but he knew that more or less, he had a pretty intense size kink.

Sherlock and John had been sleeping together for a few weeks now, after a particularly dangerous case had forced John to admit how much he cared about Sherlock Holmes. And to his blissful surprise, the feeling was mutual. It was nice, even lovely, sleeping with Sherlock, more so than he could have dreamed. 

But outside of the sex, not much between them had changed. And John wasn’t about to blow it now by introducing something so risky, so soon. Maybe, after last night, he could start introducing it in little hints over the next couple of weeks. Maybe ask him to do that _thing_ with his fingers again... he shuddered. Just thinking about it was enough to make him half-hard. He chilled the water. No time for indulging that now, before the clinic.

He stepped out of the shower and changed into a sensible dress shirt, blue tie, and black slacks. As he passed the kitchen for some breakfast, he spotted Sherlock in the other room, poring over something on his laptop. He seemed to be alternating between typing and reading furiously, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Coffee?” John asked. He knew Sherlock would probably decline or ignore him all together, but it was polite to ask. He waited a beat before starting to scoop a single helping into the pot. Then, Sherlock spoke up.

“You have a size fetish.”

John jerked and dropped the coffee scoop, spilling grinds all over the machine. “Shit!”

“And yes. The hazelnut, if we still have it.”

John leaned against the counter and rubbed his temples. Well, so much for bringing it up slowly. “Um. Yes. Somewhat.” He wiped away the spilled granules from the machine and poured two scoops in before facing Sherlock again.

“Well, why didn’t you bring it up earlier? Clearly you enjoy it quite a bit.”

John flushed. “I thought, you might… be offended?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “As in, you might think, I thought you weren’t enough. Or something. I don't know. You are, though, enough. Really, it’s not about that. You’ve got a lovely... um, I mean, it’s not small, not in the least-“ Sherlock waved his hand.

“I know it’s not about that, John. I’m not offended. Do feel free to continue, though,” he gibed.

John turned impossibly redder. “Okay. Well, I’m off. Bye.” He hurried out the door, not waiting for the coffee to brew, and tried desperately to calm his flushed cheeks as he hailed a cab.

*****

“G’day, John!” John smiled at the receptionist of St. Victoria’s clinic and signed in. “You’re here until two, s’that right?” 

“Yep. Have a good day, Toni.” 

“God bless, John!” Toni called after him. St. Victoria’s was a free clinic, and even with the government funding, they still appreciated the extra help. 

John walked to the office he used on Mondays and situated himself. He checked that everything was in order- tongue compressors, ear swabs, thermometer all in place. He rarely handled any serious cases here, mostly just kids with colds, or older folks with pains. He was just sitting down when his first patient walked in- a middle-aged woman, overweight, brown hair, about 5’3. She had been having some back pain.

John talked her through her symptoms, working out her problem with her. His phone buzzed on the counter but he ignored it, focusing on his patient. It buzzed twice more. The woman paused and looked at it. “Are you going to get that?”

“Ah, it’s probably nothing. You were saying?”

The woman looked concerned. _A mother-hen type, probably has a few rowdy kids at home._ “Doctor, it could be an emergency. They’ve called three times. You should check.”

John decided to give in for her sake. He opened his phone- of course, all three texts were from Sherlock. He selected one and his screen was filled with a photo of a giant dildo with pink feathers at the end. The attached text read, _“Is this good?”_

John had a hard time keeping a passive façade as he closed the phone and turned back to the woman. “Nope, everything’s just fine. I really should just silence this thing, terribly sorry. Now, about your tailbone?”

It took about ten minutes for John to diagnose her problem and refer her to a chiropractor. As soon as she left the room, he opened up his phone again. _You know I’m at St. Victoria’s. Do refrain from sending me this sort of thing until I’m finished._

_No time then. Do you like it?_

_It’s a bit strange._

_How about this one?_ His phone buzzed as another picture came in- a plain black one this time.

_Better, yes. Where are you?_

_Sex shop._ John rolled his eyes. _You don’t say?_

 _Okay. Going back to work now._ John closed his phone and turned it to silent. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths through his nose, resuming his composure. As patients trickled in over the next few hours, he did his best to concentrate fully on their problems. But part of his brain just couldn’t stop conjuring filthy images whenever he was alone. Thank god he’d taken a two-hour shift instead of four.

*****

Finally, the clock struck two and John signed out, exchanging pleasantries with the receptionist on his way out. He opened his phone- 5 new messages, all from Sherlock. He closed it without checking any of them and made his way to the bathroom. Only after he locked the door behind him did he dare to open the messages.

_Oh, dull. As if you aren’t getting off on this._

_Do you have a size preference?_

_Fine then, 10 inches it is._

_Silencing your phone, John? What if there was an emergency?_

_You’ll see this at 2 then. Come home right away, I’ll be waiting._

John smirked. _On my way_ , he pecked back as he walked out of the bathroom and outside. His cab made lovely time, and he was on the steps of his flat within ten minutes. He unlocked the door, made his way up the stairs, and walked into the living room. Upstairs, John could faintly hear the shower running. 

On the kitchen table was a discreet white bag. A quick peek inside yielded a rectangular plastic package, which John pulled out. “10 INCHES OF LIFE-LIKE SILICON! SPICE UP YOUR SEX! HOW WILL YOU TAME THIS BAD BOY?” It was, of course, a dildo. 10”, black, silicon, with a pair of crude balls at the end. Just looking at it made him a bit dizzy. It was bigger than anything he’d ever seen in real life. Oh, god. He began to open the package, cringing at the cheesy bubble-lettered advertisement. He was just beginning to peruse the usage pamphlet when he heard the water shut off upstairs. “John, bring the dildo here. Take a shower and then come to bed.” Sherlock bellowed from the bathroom. John cringed, praying that Mrs. Hudson was away. He walked up the stairs and met a towel-clad Sherlock in the hallway, handed off the dick, and went to the shower. 

He cleaned up as quickly and thoroughly as possible. What exactly did Sherlock have in mind right now? It was two in the afternoon, for Chrissakes. John willed himself to just concentrate on soaping up and rinsing off. He wrapped a towel across his waist and walked to Sherlock’s bedroom.

Sherlock was waiting for him at the doorway. Immediately, Sherlock ripped off John’s towel and pushed him on the bed. He pulled out a bowl with some white creamy goop in it, and began to stir it with his fingers. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this. You thought I’d be offended? You know I love you, and I love making you cum.” John chuckled a bit at Sherlock’s bluntness and looked down. He was almost completely hard already. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He looked over to the dildo on the side of the bed. “Ah, shit, I’ve got to wash it off, wait here.” Sherlock took the giant cock and headed to the bathroom, leaving John alone on the bed.

He waited a moment, thinking about nothing in particular besides how exciting this was, then remembered lube. God, he would need a lot of lube. He was just beginning to fish through the bedside drawer for the tube when Sherlock returned. “Oh John, not that. You’ll tear yourself if you use just anything.”

John pulled back. “Well, what do you use, then?” 

Sherlock pointed at the bowl. “It’s J-lube and Crisco. Quite the craze in the fisting subculture, apparently.” _Oh._ Sherlock had really done his homework. That explained what he was looking up earlier. The idea of Sherlock of all people looking through fisting forums was almost hilariously strange. But of course he had. He was probably an expert now.

“Okay then. So what are we…?” John had an idea of what was about to happen, but he wanted to be absolutely clear. Sherlock didn’t have to be asked twice.

“I’ll have to prepare you before you start to take the toy. A bit of foreplay, a half hour of fingering, and a little over a three-quarters cup of lube should do it. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry, but do tell me if I’m going too fast.” He looked intently at John. He was so considerate and sweet, in his own way, and John loved him for it. He leaned forward kissed his mouth gently.

The kiss deepened and John’s breathing became heavy. It seemed like Sherlock was doing a hundred things at once to turn him on. With a thigh pressed firmly between John’s legs, Sherlock flicked at his nipples, closing in and twisting them while licking up and down the shell of his ear slowly. John gasped and arched up a bit. Sherlock trailed a hand down the center of his torso, dipping into his navel, then to the beginnings of his pubic hair. The touches sent shivers through John. His thin hand trailed lower, ghosting over John’s erection and then back up again. 

Sherlock reached out with his other hand for the bowl and coated his pointer and middle fingers with the lube. He reached back out and took John’s dick in his hand lightly. He worked his hand a few times and John moaned softly. The lube was wonderfully soft and slick, much smoother than the one they usually used. As a result, Sherlock’s hand was working deliciously fast over him.

“Oh, Sherlock… That’s great, shit,” John breathed out. Sherlock responded by biting at his unscarred shoulder roughly. John cried out, and Sherlock lowered himself to his opening. He reached into the bowl with two fingers and applied a large amount over his hole. John gasped at the sensation. The mixture was warm- probably from all of the stirring Sherlock had been doing to it- and so, so soft. 

Sherlock moved the mixture over him, smoothing it out and applying some more to his fingers. He pressed two fingers inside easily and pulled them out again, making little circles around his sphincter to open him up. John’s legs opened up wider when he felt a third finger pry in. Sherlock was taking the fingering extra slowly, making sure John adjusted fully to each new digit before progressing. He teased John all the while with open-mouthed kisses to the insides of his thighs, soft touches to his perineum, and light pulls at the skin of his sac. John was losing himself quickly in the sensations. He barely noticed when Sherlock added another finger from his right hand. Strangely, it didn’t even feel uncomfortable, just good. Then, Sherlock started teasing his prostate.

“Ah, fuck, wait!” John jerked up involuntarily. It was too good, he was dangerously close. He grabbed the base of his dick firmly and breathed. A few painful moments passed before he released himself and Sherlock continued. 

“Is it just the foreplay, John, or is it the thought of taking the dildo all the way up your ass that's bringing you this close?” Sherlock purred out. John gasped.

“Oh god, stop, I can’t take this right now, Sherlock…” he trailed off and saw Sherlock grin. “You little bastard… oh!” The fingers pressed against his prostate again, cutting off any retort.

Sherlock worked him a few more minutes before pushing another finger in with a little glob of lube. _Five. Christ._ He had never had so much inside of him. He gasped and felt his dick twitch at the fullness. Sherlock worked his fingers in and out slowly, opening them up just the littlest bit every so often. Finally, he paused, and whispered, “Ready?” John nodded hazily.

Sherlock removed his fingers carefully and retrieved the dildo from the side of the bed. John looked at it again. How in God’s name was that ever going to fit in him? It was huge. Suddenly this seemed like an utterly stupid idea. 

“Just relax,” he said, softly massaging John’s sphincter. “You don’t have to take the whole thing if you don’t want to. I picked a narrower one so you could take more comfortably.” He waited for John's muscles to calm before moving on.

Sherlock scooped out an somewhat ridiculous amount of lube and smoothed it over the toy. John found the way that his fingers danced over the black rubber oddly mesmerizing. He started at them lustfully as they expertly worked the dildo, covering it from base to tip with the whiteish stuff. He looked up at John as he finished, his brows knitted. “Okay?”

“Ugh yes, just put it in please,” he begged.

Sherlock lined up the dildo with John’s opening. John took a deep breath as Sherlock stroked his thigh with his other hand as he pressed in oh-so-lightly. So far, it wasn’t much different from when Sherlock entered him. Sherlock rocked the first few inches in and out a few times, working in a few centimeters more with every thrust. John gasped when it brushed against his prostate. He looked down- it wasn’t even halfway in. Involuntarily, he tightened around it and cursed.

“Easy, easy, just ride it out,” Sherlock cooed. He stilled the movements until John relaxed. Then, gently, he rocked the toy out and in another half inch. John moaned and bucked up. Encouraged, Sherlock slowly worked in the next few inches. Through his lust-addled perception, John heard Sherlock moan softly, saw his free hand cover his lips before returning to John’s body.

Now John was starting to feel the full span of the toy. It was almost three-quarters in, and more than anything he’d ever imagined. “Oh fuck, Sherlock, come here…” Sherlock, still holding the dildo, came up to John. John grasped at his shoulders tightly and groaned. Sherlock relentlessly continued to work more and more in slowly, so slowly. John was finding it harder to bite his tongue as he was filled more and more. “Sherlock, it’s so much, so full, I don’t know if I can take more, it’s so fucking good, oh fuck…” He cried out when he felt the balls against his cheeks.

Sherlock bit at his neck and began thrusting the toy completely in and out. John’s eyes rolled back and he clenched Sherlock harder. He was being fucked by a giant and it was bloody amazing. He registered faintly that his nails were digging into Sherlock’s back, but he couldn’t care about that now, because _fuck._ He felt the beginnings of orgasm building slowly, massively in him, getting stronger with each thrust. Then, Sherlock started whispering in his ear.

“God, John, you are so fucking hot. Sucking up ten inches like you were born to do it. You love this; I know you do, being filled so much you can hardly bear it, so much you don’t know what to do. You don’t think you can take more, but you know you can, you want to…” 

John was gasping and writhing under him. "Oh, fu-fuck!" he came with a shout, his back arched clear off the mattress. His eyes rolled back and he shuddered, his cock pouring cum onto his chest and neck. Finally, with a twitch, John relaxed and laid down. 

The rubber felt uncomfortably huge in him now. Sherlock gingerly removed it before John could reach down to do it himself. “John…” he whispered. For once, he seemed at a loss for words.

“Come here, love,” John purred, and Sherlock faced him. His cheeks were flushed pink and his pupils dilated, showing only a sliver of icy blue. John took his head into his hands and lunged at his mouth, kissing him furiously. Sherlock unraveled quickly as John pulled at his hair and sucked his tongue hard. His dick, rock-hard, pressed urgently at John’s hipbone. John removed a hand from Sherlock’s curls, sneaking it to the bowl of lube and then over Sherlock’s dripping cock. _God, he’s so wet_. Sherlock jerked erratically as John pulled him. He seemed on edge already, especially keyed-up from the night’s events. John tightened his grip just a bit, making Sherlock break the kiss to let out a choked gasp. “John, oh, fuck!” John continued to pull Sherlock as his come splashed over his stomach, making him ride out his orgasm.

Sherlock went limp under him. He took a moment to recover, panting, then gazed at John. “That… was fantastic.”

John sighed happily and let his head fall back in agreement. God, just remembering tonight would probably be turning him on all week. “It was. More than you know. Thank you.” He smiled and grabbed Sherlock’s hand in his own. Eventually, Sherlock got up to get a towel, cleaned them up, and shut the light off. John slept the best sleep he’d had in years as Sherlock spooned behind him.

*****

The next few days passed without much excitement. Sherlock had a case that took him away from the flat almost all of the time, and John busied himself with the hospital his writing. That is, until he came home Thursday afternoon after volunteering, finding another white bag on the table. Inside was a dildo- peach-colored and 11 inches this time- and a handwritten note.

_I’ll be home at 5. Get yourself ready. –SH_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/advice always luffed :3  
> continued (kind of) [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/460940)


End file.
